Two weeks had passed since he first arrived at this smelly backwater place, and Verity was starting to feel a little restless. Normally he never stayed long in one place or the other, but recent developments had forced him to pause. He paced back and forth on the creaking hardwood floor. On top of some crates across the small shabby room, sat a figure watching him expectantly. He was the closest thing to a friend, Verity had ever known, a short(though normal sized for his race) ragged fellow, known as Hands. For perhaps the third time today, Verity had to ask. "And you are zure of this? The doctor?"
The halfling sighed and looked at Verity with slight exasperation, composed himself and replied.
"For the last time, yes. I've allready checked it with three independant sources, and while they didn't know much, I could discern enough from what they did know. And that letter you received should prove it."
Verity's frustration was starting to show. "But how-"
Hands cut him off. "I don't know how! ..But that letter would suggest that he won't do anything rash in either case. So why not hear him out. You wouldn't be admitting to anything, and you need to find out just how much he thinks he knows in order to make a solid decision."
He cleared his throat, and reached for his pocket. Causing Verity to pause in his pacing and study the movement of the hand. The gloved hand returned from the folds of the pocket holding a small flower bulb, and Verity visibly relaxed. Hands threw the bulb into his opened maw, and started thoughtfully chewing. He picked up.
"The....hunters, would surely see him dead, if he does know something. But if not, there's still time to sway him off this dangerous course. Course, there's the matter of that slave-girl found dead..." Hands raised an eyebrow.
Verity held his chin thoughtfully, and tried looking out the grimey window with not much success.
He didn't like where this was heading, but he understood his friend's reasoning.
"And what if he iz allready working for them? It would certainly zeem like they are allready here, no?" He turned with a seemingly nonchalant look on Hands, gauging his response.
Hands shrugged. "Kill him. Can't have that. Though, I'd advice you to be careful. He is well connected after all, no matter the Shah's personal feelings towards the man, he would probably still take it personnally if his court physician turned up dead. But for now, let's hope it doesn't come to that."
Verity let his hands rest on his hips, and flashed the halfling one of his characteristic smiles.
"Very well, my diminutive friend. But, if the good doctor thinkz he will have everything the way he intended, he is zurely mistaken! I will pay him a vizit, do not doubt. But not at the hour intended. The question iz, will he be attending the hunt, or ztay behind?" Verity was getting worked up, dramatically stabbing the air with his index finger.
The halfling looked thoughtful. "Could go either way. You were supposed to meet late in the evening, the hunt is during the day. Since there's a big chance a hunter might get injured, the Shah will probably keep the physician waiting at the side-lines. But if he have his own way, he'll no doubt stay behind. Men like that probably don't enjoy such physical sports. My money would be on the former though. And either way, the security ought to be light during the hunt."
Verity took heart at hearing that. "Then it is zettled! While the Shah and his court are out rummaging through the bush, I will enter the ztronghold in all discretion and await the doctor'z return. No doubt it will come as a pleazant surprise." With that, his smug smile grew wide and he winked at Hands. After a wish of luck from the halfling, he adjusted his disguise, pulled up his hood and mentally altered his way of speaking, he started limping his way down the mucky roads towards the Golden Trident, trepidation mixed with excitement at the thought of the coming hunt.
He took a quick look through the window, then entered the not yet so buzzing establishment. That annoying fish-woman was busy chatting to a strange man in a silly mask. Verity frowned his now wrinkly face at that, but collected himself soon enough when the hollows of the man's mask was directed his way. He quickly turned his head, causing his long seemingly grey hair to dance in front of his face. He started limping towards the back, with a quick nod at the innkeeper, who knew him only as "Gann", the vagrant. He looked both ways in the corridor, studied the door for a while. Seemingly satisfied, he unlocked it carefully, swung the door open and after a while made his careful way inside. Resetting the small trap he had set in order to tell if someone had entered, he locked the door. After having looked through the whole room, he threw himself on his bed and cocked his crossbow. Soon, very soon. His time to act would come...
Summary: Verity is disguised as an older human male. The Inn-keeper knows him only as 'Gann' the vagrant. And Verity remains in his rented room at the Trident until the day of the hunt, no common room, no elvish features.
